


Real Emotion

by HannaM



Category: Collar x Malice (Visual Novel)
Genre: First Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaM/pseuds/HannaM
Summary: Then one day Isshiki says, “Let’s write a song about love, Kazuki.”
Relationships: Hoshino Kazuki/Isshiki Yasuhiro
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Real Emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Midnight_Run](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Run/gifts).



The first time Kazuki sees Isshiki without his makeup, piercings and flashy outfits, he’s startled by just how ordinary Isshiki looks. Kazuki could have passed him on the street without noticing him for a moment. In fact, for a brief moment Kazuki is struck with the fearful possibility that he had walked past Isshiki on his way into the venue and completely failed to recognize him. 

Isshiki smiles faintly. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m less likely to get harassed if I look like this on the streets.” He doesn’t specify if he meant the cops, the fangirls, or just ordinary assholes, but Kazuki figures it’s probably some combination of all three. 

“Who said I was shocked?” Kazuki mutters, looking away. “Just didn’t recognize you for a second, that’s all.”

The moment he says it, he regrets it. He sees a flash of hurt in Isshiki’s eyes for a moment, before the vulnerability smoothly conceals itself.

“That’s the idea,” Isshiki says, coldly. “If you’re not going to help me, get out.” And then, a little more gently, “I’ll see you on stage, Kazuki.”

Kazuki turns away, but as he pulls open the dressing room door, Isshiki speaks again.

“In the future, look more carefully.”

“It was just a second,” Kazuki retorts. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.” 

After that, he starts sneaking glances at Isshiki between songs, memorizing the exact shape of his eyes and nose, the way his glossy lips press together when he’s trying not to laugh at a joke someone’s made. 

Kazuki’s not exactly sure when it hits him that he’s staring at another guy’s mouth, probably for longer than is polite (though since when did he care about being _polite_ , anyway?) but Isshiki definitely notices first. He remembers the moment with painful clarity, looking up from Isshiki’s mouth to his eyes, only to find those eyes fixed on him. 

Kazuki’s face heats, and he quickly looks away, muttering something about it being hot under the stage lights. He doesn’t dare look at Isshiki again, at least not until they’re taking a break.

Kazuki’s trying to hold back a yawn when a water bottle is thrust in front of his face, and he looks up from his seat to see Isshiki, his expression unreadable.

“I told you, hydrate. It’s important.”

“You sound like my older sister,” Kazuki grumbles, but takes the bottle and unscrews the top, gulping down some water obediently. He is, he realizes, actually pretty thirsty. 

When he puts down the bottle, Isshiki is still looking at him, almost curiously. “I didn’t know you had an older sister,” he says, after a moment. 

Kazuki shrugs. “Does it matter?” Isshiki is still looking at him, so he supposes it does. “Her name’s Ichika. We live together. She’s a pain… she’d probably get upset if she knew I was here.”

The corner of Isshiki’s mouth (and there Kazuki goes again) twitches into a faint smile. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, Kazuki.”

And he walks away, leaving Kazuki feeling like he’s screwed up somewhere but unable to figure out exactly where. 

The first few songs they write together, well, it’s fair to say they’re about 70% Isshiki, 20% Kazuki and 10% Akito or the other guys suggesting riffs and rhymes. But Isshiki keeps pushing Kazuki to go deeper, to share more, and slowly, Kazuki finds himself stopping to jot down phrases as he’s going about his day. He’s less confident about the words than the music, but Isshiki wants him involved in both, which is incredibly flattering… and intimidating. He doesn’t want to let Isshiki down. 

Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Isshiki says, “Let’s write a song about love, Kazuki.”

Kazuki has never been in love, but he’s not about to admit that to Isshiki. “…Sure, I guess.”

“Real love, of course. Not empty sugary words.” 

Akito frowns. “How are you going to do that?”

Privately, Kazuki wonders the same thing, but Isshiki is smiling at him like they’re sharing a secret, so he just says, “We’ll mean it. Won’t we, Isshiki?”

Isshiki’s smile widens. “I only sing words I believe in.”

When Isshiki performs, it’s like he shines, like he’s the sun and everyone else in the room is the solar system orbiting around him. With a crowd to play to, he’s an untouchable god. It’s all Kazuki can do to keep up, he thinks, because sometimes Isshiki looks at him in the middle of a song and Kazuki nearly misses a note. Once, he does miss the note and he spends the whole rest of the set trying not to think about it. 

Afterwards, all Isshiki says is, “You didn’t give it everything you had tonight, did you?” and that’s more than enough to make his feelings clear. Kazuki vows to never let it happen again, and so far, it hasn’t. 

Someday, he wants to shine just as bright as Isshiki. 

The love song isn’t ready yet. 

It usually takes them a while before they’re even a little bit satisfied with a new song, so that’s nothing new, but this one feels like it’s taking twice as long, because it’s so easy to get lazy about a love song, so easy to write something trite and empty, but that’s not what either of them want. Kazuki knows Isshiki’s dealt with stalkers and crazy fans who’ve already decided that they’re Isshiki’s future wives or whatever, and the last thing they need is some shitty song that’ll encourage those people to think that Isshiki’s really in love with one of them. 

“What kind of girls do you like, Kazuki?” Isshiki says, unexpectedly, after they’ve erased yet another line. And then, even more unexpectedly, “Or boys. That’s all right, too.” 

“I…” Kazuki splutters, totally caught off guard. “I don’t know! Someone cool, I guess…”

A year ago, he would’ve definitely said he liked girls and only girls. He’d have ticked off the obvious attributes: pretty, nice, good cook (living with Ichika has spoiled him in that way), good taste in music. But working on this stupid song has made him realize how surface level all of those things are. None of that describes a person, let alone a girlfriend he could really passionately love. 

And a year ago he’d spent considerably less of his time thinking about how glossy Isshiki’s lips look under the stage lights. 

“Cool…” Isshiki echoes, pursing said glossy lips. “What does that mean, I wonder?”

“Someone who does what they care about doing because it’s what they want to do, no matter what everybody else says,” Kazuki says immediately. “Someone who knows who they are and who they want to be, and is willing to work their hardest to get there. Someone who…” He falters.

_Someone who shines._

Isshiki smiles at Kazuki, even as Kazuki feels his face going hot. “That’s good. Now just take those feelings, and put them into our song.”

In the end, the song ends up being more about longing for the one you love. The way Isshiki sings it, there’s something incredibly sad about the song. It feels like Isshiki loves this girl with every breath in his body, and she doesn’t even know. 

“Apparently there’s been some speculation,” Akito says, reporting on the fan response. “They’re wondering if someone broke your heart, Isshiki.”

To Kazuki’s relief, Isshiki just laughs. “Then we did a good job, didn’t we, Kazuki?”

Something feels wrong about that, but it’s not until later than Kazuki figures out what. 

Kazuki corners Isshiki in his dressing room one night, after they’ve been rehearsing for hours. 

Isshiki has his eyes half closed and his hands spread on the table with a fan blowing on him, like maybe he’s been repainting his nails, or maybe he’s just tired and overheated. Even so, he says, “You want something, Kazuki?”

Kazuki crosses his arms, his heart pounding. “It’s about BLUEBERRY CANDY.”

“The song?” Isshiki opens one eye, watching Kazuki in the mirror. “What about it?”

“You once said you only sing words you believe in. So…” Kazuki can’t look Isshiki in the eye. “Do you like someone, Isshiki?”

The pause that follows is agony, and Kazuki mentally curses himself for asking such a stupid pointless question at least three times before-

“Maybe.” 

Kazuki’s heart stops for a moment, and Kazuki looks up, startled, as the chair creaks and Isshiki gets up, smiling at him in that secret way again, and-

Isshiki is so, so close, close enough that Kazuki can smell he’s just had a breath mint, can see where sweat has dripped through Isshiki’s makeup and some of his mascara-laden lashes are even sticking together… all the little imperfections that make Isshiki real and not some fantasy. 

And Isshiki says, softly, “Do you, Kazuki?”

It’s Kazuki who kisses Isshiki first, but it’s Isshiki who knows how to kiss, who shows Kazuki, patiently, the way he’s shown him everything else new and intimidating, who gently cups Kazuki’s jaw and who pulls back for air when Kazuki would happily have suffocated against Isshiki’s soft lips. 

And when terror suddenly seizes Kazuki, when it hits him that he’s just kissed a guy, just kissed _Isshiki,_ and what happens now he doesn’t know-

“This is ours,” Isshiki says, his eyes serious. “Yours and mine, no one else’s. For now, at least. All right?”

Kazuki remembers how to breathe. “Yeah. Y-yeah, all right.”

Isshiki smiles at him, and Kazuki’s heart skips a beat. 

What the future holds, he has no idea, but… in this moment, he feels like anything is possible.


End file.
